


everybody wants to rule the world

by SyverneSien



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark!Jordan, Friendship, Gen, God!Jordan, Gods, Realm of Mianite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27784093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyverneSien/pseuds/SyverneSien
Summary: The Darkness gives Jordan an offer--join it and become a god, taking the place of the young, irresponsible deities of the Isles.Jordan says yes."You’ve had quite the day, Captain. Sleep on it. And then, tomorrow…” it leans forward and Jordan looks up to meet its gaze, “...you’ll take your rightful place as a god.”
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Tom Cassell & Jordan Maron
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	everybody wants to rule the world

The Darkness comes to him while he’s trapped inside the mirror realm. He can’t see it but he can hear its voice, faint from the ocean. He backs up into the ruined portal, tripping over a sharp fragment of obsidian and crashing onto his back. The wind picks up, bringing with it the terrible gravelly voice of the Darkness, making him wince and cringe before the voice settles into a sickly sweet that hangs heavy in the air and feels as if it’s dragging around in his skull, like honey and molasses dripping into his ears.

“Captain,” the Darkness purrs. “How very nice to see you again.” A weight settles on his chest, keeping him down on the ground, and he struggles to breathe. Jordan fights, but it only presses down harder. “Oh no, you stay there. Ianite is trying to get to you, but she will only be able to retrieve you once  _ I’m _ done.” The Darkness laughs--a deep, abysmal chuckle that reaches into the back of Jordan’s mind and sets him on high alert. “Those pathetic little godlings. So weak and pitiful.” A voice of water and silk now streamed into Jordan’s mind, quiet and forcing him to strain to listen. “Don’t you think you and I would do a better job as this world’s gods, Captain?”

Jordan struggles to sit up, the weight on his chest seeming to be just holding him down instead of holding him in one place. “What do you- want from me?” he gasps, choking on his tongue as he tries to speak. And then he saw it. The Darkness had never appeared in the Overworld before, only a trail of shadowy essence. This is a creature looming at his feet, a tall, twisted shadow of a man with claw-like fingers and writhing tendrils of obsidian smoke as its entourage. There are no descript features save acid-green eyes burned into its skull and a wide mouth with wicked, ash-grey teeth. “Get away from me,” Jordan growls, fighting to keep his glare even as he stares down the primordial embodiment of evil.  _ Y’know, as you do, _ Tom’s voice pipes up in the back of Jordan’s mind. Jordan ignores it. “I don’t want to be a god.”

The Darkness makes a high noise of amusement. “Of course you don’t,” it replies pityingly. Jordan flinches as it moves towards him, then shies away as it curls around his back to whisper in his ear. “But you and I both know that these gods are not yet fit to rule. Young, brash, childish, immature…  _ incompetent.” _ A claw slips under Jordan’s chin and lifts it, forcing Jordan to look down at the shadowy figure now poised in front of him. He can feel the Darkness’ smokey form pressing against his back, enveloping him in the overwhelming presence of the primal being. “What has this Ianite ever done for you, hm? I have given you gifts, treated you like a  _ king…” _

“She’s my lady,” Jordan shoots back, eyes following the Darkness as it sways in front of him like a cobra waiting to strike. “I will always be loyal to-” He chokes as a shiver wracks his body, the intense cold radiating from the Darkness seeping into his bones and making them brittle. Jordan lifts his hands, watching them shake--from freezing or anxiety, he doesn’t know. The Darkness is watching him with amusement and Jordan feels bitter.

“Having trouble, Captain?” the Darkness drawls coolly. “Ianite is not powerful enough to reach you here right now. You’re at my mercy, Jordan.” Jordan opens his mouth to tell the Darkness to screw off and not use his name, but smoke fills his mouth before he can and he starts to cough. The Darkness smiles patronizingly. “As I was saying,” it continues haughtily, “Ianite is not your lady. In another world, yes, you are bound to her and she to you, but this one…” the Darkness makes a tutting sound, “...she is a mockery of your goddess, a stain on your reputation as a champion serving a noble deity. She has no real connection to you. Ianite only wants a strong warrior on her side to keep her safe from her brothers while she,” the Darkness’ expression twists into a grin, “attempts to carry out my plans. Very poorly, I should say.”

Jordan narrows his eyes. “And so you want me as your godly partner instead,” he spits. The Darkness nods firmly, and Jordan looks away. “Wouldn’t that just be a threat to you, giving me all that power? And why… why me? Why not Tom? He’s dark, isn’t he?” The questions fall from Jordan’s lips before he can stop them. He has to admit, he’s curious about the offer. What  _ is _ to stop him taking the godhood and toppling the Darkness? And would he really be a better god of balance than this… this young, irresponsible Ianite?

“I am not a god, Captain. I am more powerful than a god. You would be second to me, and if I were contested by you I would blast every single one of your atoms into oblivion,” the Darkness explains. “I want you because of your head, your heart, and your soul. Before I get into that, though, on the topic of the zombie--he already has the power of one god buried deep inside him, and it is buried for a reason. Ascending to true godhood would rip apart his rotting body and burn his soul from the inside out. Especially if said godhood was granted to him by me. You think that Dianite is the dark god, but in truth, Dianite is a creature of light along with Mianite. A soul reanimated by Dianite’s power would tear itself apart if infused with mine.” The Darkness pauses. “As the champion of Ianite, you are naturally more suited to be a vessel for me.”

Jordan tries to pretend that that doesn’t unsettle him as much as it does. “You- you were talking about head, heart, and soul?” he says, trying to change the subject. Why the Darkness wants him isn’t much better than why Jordan is the perfect right-hand man for the Darkness, but it’s better.

The Darkness taps Jordan’s forehead with a claw. “You’re intelligent and wise,” it taps Jordan’s heart, “you’ve got passion and loyalty,” it draws back to loom over him again, “and as I just mentioned, your soul is already dark because of your allegiance to Ianite. So no, I don’t want anybody else. Just you. The right hand of Darkness; the captain, god of balance… because though I intend to give you the powers of all  _ three _ godlings, order and chaos sort of cancel each other out, hm?” The Darkness chuckles as if it were a joke. “Come on, Captain. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Reign over the balance of the world, the power to make things right and keep your friends from fighting, jurisdiction over armies and lands and realms… wouldn’t you like to be the one in control for once? The one giving commands to his devoted acolytes?”

Jordan hesitates. The offer dangles in front of his face like a metaphorical carrot on a stick, so close that Jordan can taste it. And it tastes  _ good. _ He’s tempted, so very tempted, and there’s a response burning on the tip of his tongue that he’s itching to let out. It makes his heart swell to be praised so--the Darkness is right about at least one thing; Ianite had never done much for him, nevermind praise his mind or heart. Jordan knows that he would be a  _ fantastic _ right-hand man, and yet something makes him hold off. He delays, and soon the Darkness releases him from its hold.

“Think about it,” the Darkness directs, drawing back. “You’d be a wonderful god of balance, Jordan.” It grins, Jordan’s name sounding far too good in its deep timbre and it clearly knowing that it does. “You know how to find me.” The Darkness winks, floating up above Jordan’s head as the bonds holding Jordan down continue to dissipate and Jordan struggles to his feet.

“I don’t know how to find you,” Jordan admits, looking up at the dark figure. He feels cold, but not physically. He feels like someone’s walking over his grave. “I mean, not that I want to find you, I don’t-” he stammers, realizing his mistake.

The Darkness’ smile is knowing. “I come when I am summoned,” it replies simply. “And only for you. Anybody else is a bother.” The Darkness curls down again to peer directly into Jordan’s face. “You are the only one--champion or god--that I care about.” Then it darts back, starting to slowly melt away into the blackness of the mirror realm. In a tone that reminds Jordan far too much of Tom, the Darkness teases, “This has been a wonderful date, Captain. Don’t forget to call me.” And it’s gone, leaving Jordan alone on the edge of the broken portal.

Within moments, Jordan is tugged from behind by an unseen force and brought back to the Isles, falling down onto the sand of Tom’s beach. Tom and Karl peer down at him with concern, and the three gods hover nearby. Jordan blinks, the harsh sun blinding him despite his sunglasses, which he pushes all the way up the bridge of his nose. Tom and Karl start to pester him with questions but he’s not listening, focused on getting up and turning to face his- no, Ianite. This is not his goddess.

“My champion,” she starts quietly, causing Tom and Karl to fall silent. “I apologize for not getting to you sooner. Something--someone--was blocking my power. I had never had to do that before and I wasn’t quite strong enough to break through.” On any other occasion, Jordan would have instantly forgiven her. Now, things were different. The Darkness had put words to feelings that Jordan would have rather denied, and now they were getting hard to ignore. “Did… did the Darkness speak to you while you were trapped there?” Jordan had already known the word for this feeling, though. Anger.

Jordan looks around. Nobody here really respects him. They--Karl and Tom--hail him as a leader and yet never listen to him. The gods don’t really trust him--he’s met enough gods to at least guess at how they’re feeling. And the way Mianite avoids his gaze and Dianite bites his lip and Ianite doesn’t seem to understand him really gets underneath Jordan’s skin. His expression turns stony and he shakes his head. “No.” The lie is easy. It shouldn’t be.

Ianite accepts his answer with question. And Jordan thought  _ he _ was the one blinded by loyalty. Mianite and Dianite seem slightly uneasy, but Tom and Karl go along with it as well. And soon he’s been escorted back to his island and left alone in the waning daylight, his friends’ worries vanishing on the wind. It’s so nice to be cared about, isn’t it? And it’s not the first time.

It sounds silly, Jordan knows it does. It sounds silly, but he doesn’t feel ready to become a god. It’s quite… monumental, isn’t it? And it would kickstart the Darkness’ conquest of the world. He wants to just be Jordan, the captain, for a little while longer. Even though he knows everything would be better with him in charge. Everything would be so much more organized and peaceful and  _ balanced. _ The Darkness, once again, was right--Jordan likes to be in control. Especially when he’s only following this goddess because she resembles the one he respected and loved like family. He wants some more time before he has to fight against his friends to make them  _ see _ that what he’s doing is right. That’s why he kept the Darkness potion but didn’t use it, after all. That’s why he never chased away the Darkness cat. This was always coming, Jordan just never wanted to take that last step. And he’s still hesitant, but… 

“Jordan!” It’s Tom, springing up behind him with that characteristic bounce in his step, chaos in his eyes and joy in the twist of his lips. “Get your head out of the clouds, mate. You said you’d help me with my lighthouse, remember?” He slings his arm through Jordan’s and tugs him towards the midnight blue sea, the dark push and pull of the waves reminding Jordan of the mirror realm. It had only been a few hours since he’d been rescued. Had it even been that? How late had he gotten back? “Jordan?”

“Did you break it again?” Jordan sighs, punctuating his words with a roll of his eyes. The Darkness could wait. It had been waiting a long time, after all, another day or two wouldn’t hurt. He could help Tom with the lighthouse and speak to the Darkness again tomorrow. “Tom, I’m your friend, not a repair service.”

Tom pouts. “You never got it working in the first place, Jor _ dan,” _ he whines. “You know I can’t work redstone and you’ve been busy, so…” He huffs, pushing the boat he’d just ridden over to Jordan’s island into the water. “No trident. Get in the boat, Sparklypants.”

Jordan gets in with only a little bit of complaining, before seating himself behind Tom and letting the zombie row them across the small strip of ocean. They bump up onto the sand and get out, then Jordan helps Tom haul the boat further up on the beach. Jordan tilts his head back to look up at Tom’s work-in-progress lighthouse and Tom darts over to hold the door open for him. “Ladies first,” Tom teases, and Jordan just smiles.

They spend the next hour inside the redstone portion of the lighthouse, Jordan directing Tom on what to do and how it works, and Tom being more of a hindrance than a help, but they’re doing it together and that’s what counts. Jordan keeps getting lost in his thoughts, though, and he knows Tom can tell. He’s thinking about what he plans to do tomorrow, and how Tom might react.

Jordan takes a deep breath. “Tom,” he starts, busying himself snapping together some redstone wiring to seem more nonchalant as he speaks. “Do you… are you happy here?” Jordan sighs, letting his shoulders fall in dejection.

Tom doesn’t answer right away. “You’re not,” he replies instead. “You haven’t been happy since we got here. I can tell, Jordan. I know you better than you think.” Tom leans back against the redstone lamps and pushes hair out of his face. “Jordan, what are you planning to do? And don’t give me that ‘nothing’ bullshit because you always try to do  _ something _ to fix things. Remember the Taint in Ruxomar?”

“I wish I didn’t,” Jordan grumbles. “That was a mistake.” He laughs and Tom laughs with him, lightening the mood for a moment. “I… Tom, I can’t tell you,” he then utters quietly. “I…” He doesn’t know what else he can say without worrying Tom. “I just can’t.”

Tom sits up. “Jordan, I can’t deny that even though this is my home, it feels… y’know, weird, somehow.” He reaches out and grabs Jordan’s arm, tugging the other man towards him. “Whatever you do, I’ll stand by you, okay? I’ve known you far longer than this Dianite. As long as it’s not blowing up the Taint again, I’ll trust you.”

“You shouldn’t promise that,” Jordan says, pulling his arm out of Tom’s grip. “You don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Tom shrugs. “I don’t care. You do less stupid shit than I do, so if you’re doing something big and secret it’s probably going to have a good reason behind it,” he replies. Then Tom reaches up to stifle a yawn. “I’m going to bed. G’night, Jordan.”

Jordan goes back to his island with an extra spring in his step. He uses his trident to launch himself onto the roof of his house, where Ianite’s throne sits, almost always empty. A layer of dust had even started to settle on it recently. Tom supports him. Tom doesn’t even know what he’s going to do, and yet still supports him. He’d been like that with Ianite, once. And now he’s going against her for his own gains.

“Darkness,” Jordan calls, and it seems that’s all he needs to say. Shadows coil around Ianite’s throne and soon a translucent smokey figure forms in the seat. It’s much less solid than it had been in the mirror realm, but it’s the Darkness nonetheless. Pale green eyes look curiously at Jordan as he slowly drops to one knee. “M’lord.” The Darkness doesn’t speak, doesn’t prompt any words from him, just regards him evenly. “I want to take your offer.”

“Oh?” The Darkness raises an eyebrow. “That was a fast change of heart.” Before Jordan can continue, the Darkness adds, “I saw you talking to the zombie. Did you tell him about this ordeal?”

Jordan shakes his head. “No. He knows something’s going on, but I didn’t give him any details.” He hesitates. “He told me… he told me he’ll stand with me,” he says quietly, looking down at the ground.

The Darkness grins. “Sounds like you have a champion, then. You’ve had quite the day, Captain. Sleep on it. And then, tomorrow…” it leans forward and Jordan looks up to meet its gaze, “...you’ll take your rightful place as a god.”

* * *

Jordan sits atop the spiralling tower of quartz and blackstone, an echo of his old home that had once stood in the same spot. He hears snippets of conversation on the floors below, but he’s not tuned into them--he’s more focused on the living hum of the Endermen guarding his door and the sharp tang of chorus fruit that accompanies their presence. The glass in the windows is tinted purple but the lights are soulfire and gold accents the room. Jordan is nothing but respectful to the memory of the gods he replaced. Many of the elements of his tower overlap with each other--the quartz and gold, especially, having ties to both Mianite and Dianite. He didn’t design it, though. It was a couple of the Darkness’ generals who put together the plans, then Piglins and Endermen who built it. He’d given his input and ultimately he’s happy with how it turned out. It certainly radiates godly energy and intimidates all those who come near. Except two. And one of them, as Jordan was being told by the Endermen on the stairs, wants to see him.

Jordan gives the order for him to be let in, and soon there’s a sparking ball of chaos and passion bounding up his stairs three at a time. Tom’s gone through quite the physical change since declaring his allegiance to Jordan, but in the soul department, he’s almost exactly the same as he had been when Jordan had first gained his power. Brown hair still sticks up along the top of his head and his facial hair is still contained, but his untidy suit and pirate’s outfit has long since been replaced with a sharp black waistcoat and accompanying accessories. He’s also no longer an undead monster--it had taken some convincing, but Tom had eventually let Jordan restore his humanity. Tom barrels into the room and snaps to attention with his usual enthusiasm, then breaks formality and greets the god with a loud, “Jordan!”

“Tom.” A soft smile plays at the edge of Jordan’s lips. “You’re back earlier than I expected.” He snaps up two chairs and gestures for Tom to sit down in the one across from him. “Are the old Dianitees still causing trouble?” he asks, leaning back and snapping up a table as well. “Oh, and we’re having tea again, so don’t complain or I’ll smite you.” Jordan silently calls for a Piglin to get on that--he could will it into existence as he’d done with the table and chairs, but it feels more legit to have someone actually make it.

Tom pouts and crosses his arms, but doesn’t complain vocally. “The Dianitees are nothing, I can take care of it with a couple of Piglins and some dragon’s breath,” he says with a dismissive wave. “I have other news.” Tom leans forward, folding his hands in his lap. Jordan raises an eyebrow curiously. “Gandus found Dec and Karl.”

“Where are they?” Jordan asks in a low voice. They’ve been looking for the priest and the caveman for years. They’d escaped in the initial chaos, after all hope had been lost for overthrowing the Darkness, and hadn’t been seen since. Even the Darkness hadn’t been able to find them with magic, so they’d been resorting to a manual search.

“East. Making their way through the Teeth,” Tom answers. “Do you want me to tell Gandus to capture them, sir…?” Tom lifts both of his eyebrows and sits back, the chain of his pocketwatch clinking against the buttons on his waistcoat.

“No.” Jordan abruptly stands and waves the two chairs and table away, causing Tom to crash onto the ground. “I’ll go after them myself. I want you to report to the Darkness with the same information you just delivered, and a message from me--I’ll have them before the moon is full in three day’s time,” he orders, turning away to look out of the window.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just say ‘within three days’?” Tom drawls sarcastically. Jordan looks back with a dark glare and Tom jumps. “Okay, okay, before the moon is full, got it.” He hastily scribbles this down on a notepad. “Anything else, Jordan?” he prompts.

Jordan mentally reaches out towards where he needs to go, locking onto Gandus’ coordinates. “No,” he says. Jordan sighs. “This is going to be awful,” he mutters under his breath.

“Hey, at least you didn’t murder their god and raze their home to the ground- oh wait, that’s exactly what you did,” Tom comments dryly.

Jordan glares at him again. “Just because you’re my champion now doesn’t mean I can’t punish you or replace you with someone else,” he retorts. “Go talk to the Darkness, Tom.”

Tom salutes him as he vanishes, leaving only the faint smell of lavender in the air.

**Author's Note:**

> I Do Not See Any Of The Olympics Lore but hey Jordan being a demigod/god is kinda cool so I stole it and inserted it into the old Darkness plotline. Fun times!


End file.
